Land of treason-waste no reason-
  we are breathing fire
  We're packs of dogs-
  we're enemies of men-we are not desired
  Our face show-
  we've grown cold-but
  have not conspired
  Old hearts gone-
  the future's on-mother nations mired
  I like a recepticle for the chosen dead,
  we find our bodies clawed
  And with the scent of death,
  we find that we are not so very awed
    Loyalties burned-
  the words our blurred-overturn your own
  Walk like dogs and watch the doors-
  have your other stone
  Stop the toys that match disordered-
  calculate the thrones
  Feel the pulse descending-
  decaying hallowed tomes
  In the starving sense you worship-
  the nations of debris
  You wear a cost of sewage-
  that you've never ever seen
    The time is now-the vicious here-
  a stolen dinner code
  The license of the savage land-
  that you've always sold
  So bite the hand that needs you
  and bless another coal
  The virus never issues-
  from a cotton so very old
  As the lights come down
  You wash your hands and start to climb
  the ladder that you stole
  Slip the hatch-and spin the sword-
  the money lords are poor
  Push the tan-that rolls downhill-
  their sense of dream absorbed
  Still the cat that breaks the night-
  tie him to the core
  Chase the viruses that believe-
  that what's right is scored
  It's a senseless cash in of right for right-
  what's wrong is never gone
  And left is just a bassion for the fools
  golden dawn